


Amortentia

by svcre



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Cecil is Human, Fluff, Like literal gross fluff dont look at me, M/M, POV Carlos (Welcome to Night Vale)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-26
Updated: 2014-12-30
Packaged: 2018-02-10 10:50:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2022360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/svcre/pseuds/svcre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carlos is a Muggle-born who has been thrust into the confusing world of Hogwarts several years too late. At the urging of his new friends, he joins the Quidditch team--and a certain commentator develops a very public crush on him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Sorting

Carlos shifted somewhat uncomfortably in his new robes. Everyone around him was a good five years younger than he was, and they all seemed to be at least a foot shorter.

He hadn’t been nervous for this “sorting”, even though everyone had acted as though he should be, but now he was beginning to feel a little jittery. He couldn’t help but notice he towered above everyone else, making himself impossible to miss.

He pulled his eyes away from the first-years surrounding him and looked to the Sorting Hat. It was currently sitting on a stool, singing. Carlos had no idea _how_ it could possibly be singing, but he knew that when it had finished its song, the kids on stage with him would have to put it on. And then, it would somehow determine which House each person should be put in.

The House system had been explained to Carlos a few times, but his poor, overstuffed brain hadn’t retained much of the information. The only house that stuck in his mind was Ravenclaw, house of the wise. He figured he should try to get into that one. He couldn’t see why anyone _wouldn’t_ try to get into Ravenclaw.

“So what’s your deal, huh?” whispered a girl behind him, tugging lightly on his robes. “How come you’re so tall and old?”

Carlos turned slightly to behold a very small girl with poufy hair and a defiant look in her eyes. She crossed her arms and glared when Carlos didn’t answer immediately.

“It’s kind of a long story,” he hissed.

The hat finished singing and fell, limp, to the stool. The girl huffed a little, and turned away.

A woman who had introduced herself simply as The Faceless Old Woman, assistant head of Hogwarts, stepped forward. The students stopped applauding the Hat and fell silent.

“When I call your name, you will step forward, put on the hat, and be sorted,” she called to the first years.

“Maybe I’ll tell you why I’m here if we end up in the same house,” Carlos whispered to the little girl.

“You better,” she replied, crossing her arms. She looked nervous, despite her admirable attempts to hide it.

The first person walked up and put on the hat. It immediately screamed out, “HUFFLEPUFF!” and the boy walked down to a table of cheering students. 

In what seemed like no time at all, the faceless old woman called, “Flynn, Tamika!” and the girl stepped forward. The hat rested nicely on her hair, and it stayed there, silent, for a very long time.

“GRYFFINDOR!” yelled the hat at last, and Tamika took it off and headed down to a raucous table.

_Which one was Gryffindor?_ Carlos wondered. He wished he had paid more attention to the other houses.

The rest of the Sorting seemed to go by ridiculously fast, and Carlos was feeling more and more shaky as it got closer and closer to his name. But when the time came, the faceless old woman skipped right over him.

Carlos realized, with a small pang of dismay, that he was not surprised he had been ignored. How could he be a wizard, anyways? He was too old to be a wizard. The faceless old woman had probably heard about how poorly his lessons over the summer had gone, and decided to rescind his invitation to Hogwarts. She had clearly forgotten to tell him, probably because he was so insignificant to her now. He wondered what the most graceful way to leave the stage would be.

His robes, which had felt too big before, now didn’t feel large enough to shield him from the eyes of the crowd. He was the last person on stage, and if people weren’t staring before, well, they were now.

“And finally, I’m sure you’re all wondering what this fifth year is doing on the stage,” the faceless old woman said. Carlos took a second to realize he was “that fifth year”.

“We are proud to welcome Carlos to Hogwarts! He has arrived late, but he has already proved that he’s willing to work to adjust, and we’re very excited to have him. If any of you see him… looking lost or anything, I _know_ you will take the time out of your day to help him out. Right?”

Affirmative hollers and a few wolf-whistles filled the hall.

“Great! Carlos, if you would…” The faceless old woman gestured to the hat.

Trying not to look too much at the attentive crowd, Carlos walked over and put the hat on. It fit him much better than it fit the little first-years.

“Oooh, now _you_ are an interesting one,” said a small voice in his ear. “You’re much older, much more developed than the rest of them. And yet… you still haven’t come close to your full potential yet. An interesting one.

“You’re a very smart, kid, very smart. And you know you are, too. But… hmmm… you’re brave, too. Very, very brave. This is a good one.”

_Please just sort me,_ Carlos thought fervently.

“Hmm… Gryffindor could be good for you. I can see you want to be in Ravenclaw, a little, but, you know, you can be smart in Gryffindor, too. It’s hard to be brave just anywhere. Trust me.”

Carlos wasn’t fully aware of thinking, “okay,” but the next minute, the hat was screaming, “GRYFFINDOR!”  Dazed, he pulled the hat off and stumbled towards the cheering table.

Once he was there, Tamika pulled him onto the bench next to her.

“Welcome to Gryffindor. We’re very glad to have you. Now tell me what your deal is, Mr. Fifth Year,” she said, crossing her arms again.

She was cut off, however, by a woman getting to her feet at the end of the hall. Carlos recognized her as Pamela Winchell, the head of Hogwarts.

She cleared her throat, as if to prepare herself for a long speech, and looked out at the crowd. She began to speak.

“At a loss for words? Here are a few: Welcome to Hogwarts!”

Exuberant cheers broke out across the hall, and Pamela sat down. Carlos chose not to think too hard about this strange speech, and turned his attention to the food that had somehow appeared on the platters. Turning off the part of his brain that wondered how this food could _possibly_ have appeared out of nowhere, Carlos dug into the food. He hadn’t realized it, but he was starving.

Halfway into his second plate, Tamika stopped eating for long enough to ask him, again, what he was so late to come to Hogwarts.

“I’m… um… Muggle-born. And the year I was supposed to get recruited, some major battle had occurred here. Some problem with a Dark wizard who no one will really tell me about?”

“Ah yes. You-Know-Who,” Tamika said gravely.

“Yeah, so they had a lot to deal with. So no one really put as much time into recruiting as they should have, and they managed to miss me. Or so Pamela told me at the beginning of the summer.”

“They didn’t send you your letter? I’ve never heard of that happening,” Tamika said, spearing an odd looking vegetable.

“Apparently this was the first time it happened. Pamela was very sorry, and she let me stay here for the entire summer, trying to catch up. It didn’t really work, though. I’m terrible at this.”

“What, magic? You’ll learn,” Tamika said, sagely.

“Not fast enough. I hear there are impossible exams at the end of the year, for fifth years.”

“Oh, the OWLs? Don’t worry. That’s a long way away.”

“For you, maybe,” Carlos muttered, beginning to wonder if he should perhaps try to befriend someone his own age. Everyone else seemed to be deep in conversation with each other, though, so Carlos held back.

“So, wait. How’d they find you now?” Tamika asked through a mouthful of chicken.

“There was… an incident,” Carlos said, going cold at the mere memory.

“Ahh. You used your magic in front of people,” Tamika said. Carlos didn’t bother to correct her.

All too soon, the feast was over.

Pamela stood up again, and a hush fell over the crowd.

“Just a few notices, and then you can all go to bed. First—Quidditch trials will be held next week. Contact your house’s team captain for more details.”

“What’s Quidditch?” Carlos whispered to Tamika.

“Wizard sport,” she whispered back.

“Second—I’ve been asked to remind you that you must all be in your dormitories by midnight. Should you fail to be back by then, dire and humiliating consequences will await you.

“And lastly, you _must stay out of the Forbidden Forest._ Every year, there are students who think it’s _fun_ to break this rule, but I’m telling you, this year there will be nothing fun about it. Just a gruesome, painful fate that is far, far worse than death.”

“Is she serious?” Carlos whispered. Tamika ignored him.

“That’s all!! Now off to bed with you!” Pamela said cheerily.

The hall began to bustle, as prefects herded the students in all different directions. Carlos was unsure where he should go, so he just followed Tamika up a long, winding route to what appeared to be one of Hogwarts’s towers.

A girl who looked to be about his age was leading the group. She introduced herself as Prefect Dana, and said if any of them needed anything, they should go to her. Then she paused to whisper a password to a portrait, which swung open inexplicably. Carlos thought he heard it talking as he passed through. A couple summer months at Hogwarts had not yet got him fully used to the talkative paintings or the moving suits of armor.

Dana directed the first years to their dormitories. Carlos held back awkwardly, unsure where he was supposed to go. Eventually, Dana saw him.

“Oh! Carlos, right? I’m supposed to show you to the fifth year boy’s dormitory,” she said, straightening the scarf she had tied around her head.

“Right, thanks,” Carlos muttered.

“You’re making quite a splash, coming here so late and all,” Dana said as she started up a winding staircase.

“Yes, unfortunately,” Carlos said.

“You don’t like making a splash?” Dana asked.

“If making a splash allowed me to also make friends and make objects float, I’d be fine with it,” Carlos said, thinking back on his sad attempts to make a feather levitate.

“Oh, it’s ok! You’ll catch up,” Dana said, coming to a stop by a nondescript door. “Here’s your dormitory. I’m not supposed to go in the boy’s dorm, but I think it’ll be okay, just for me to introduce you to everyone.” She knocked on the door and threw it open without waiting for a reply.

None of the three boys in the room seemed to care. One of them leaned back on his bed to look at Dana, but he returned to fishing though his trunk without a word.

“All right boys, this is Carlos, as you probably know. Carlos, this is Michael, Steve, and John. I’m guessing that empty bed by the door is yours.”

“Hi,” Carlos said to the boys, trying not to sound meek.

“If you need anything, remember, you can come to me.”

“Right. Thanks, Dana,” Carlos said, meaning it.

“My pleasure. Good night!” She closed the door behind her and left.

Michael grunted a quick “hello” at Carlos, but the other two paid him no attention. Carlos sank down onto his bed, exhausted, and somewhat dreading the next day. He would be in actual classes, with actual other fifth years who had received their proper wizarding training. Pamela had speculated that being around his peers would be good for him, but after a whole summer of disappointment, he was no longer so sure.

He laid down, intending to only stay there for a moment. The next thing he knew, sunlight was streaming into the room, and one of the other boys—Michael? was shaking him awake.


	2. The Tryout

"All right, Carlos, you leave me no choice. I'm stepping in," Dana said, as she sat down opposite him during breakfast. 

It was the beginning of his second week at Hogwarts (while it was in session), and Carlos hadn't talked to Dana, or anyone his own age, since the first night. In fact, the only people he ever talked to were his professors when they called on him against his will, and occasionally, Tamika Flynn. It had seemed pathetic to him at first, but by now, Carlos was feeling more settled. He had his lonely routine, and he didn't mind it. 

Rather than reply to Dana, Carlos simply shot her a confused look, and continued eating his oatmeal. 

"This is getting too pathetic. You appear to have made no friends, and while I acknowledge that as a late arrival, it should be expected that you're not quite as social, you still don't have to be so lonely. I'm going to help you," Dana said, clenching her fists together. 

"By being my friend? Gee, thanks," Carlos said, trying to sound sarcastic, but realizing halfway through that he really  _did_ want to be Dana's friend. Talking only to a twelve year old did get old, no matter how surprisingly badass that twelve year old was. 

"No, not by being your friend, although you'd be lucky to have my friendship," Dana said, teasing (Carlos thought). "I'm going to get you onto the Quidditch team."

"Quidditch? No way. I don't even know how to play that," Carlos protested.

"Come on, Carlos. The team needs you. We haven't had a good Keeper in  _years,_ and we could always use some better Chasers, too. And the recruits this year have not been impressive so far. You'd be great... I mean, just look at your physique. You could stop the Quaffle just with your chest. You'll be a natural."

Carlos was surprised to hear her mention his "physique" favorably. He'd always been a chubby kid, and although that had mostly gone away with his last, sudden growth spurt, part of him would always remember his past chub. He still had a few faint stretch marks on his stomach from that time, and he tried to keep them as covered as possible. 

"I'm really not very athletic, Dana. And I need all my free time to try to keep up in my classes," Carlos argued. 

"You need to take a break sometimes, Carlos! You're working yourself too hard. Sports are a good way to unwind, and then you'll be more relaxed, and then the spells will come easier to you. Plus, you'll make friends who can help you! And you can fly!" 

Carlos had heard about the whole flying thing. And he had to admit, Dana had a point about the other stuff. 

What could be the harm in trying?

"Ok, Dana. I'll try. Now when are these tryouts?" Carlos said.

"Yay! They're tonight." 

"What!?"

"Yep. I think I better tell you the rules of the game now." 

"You didn't want to give me a little more advance notice?"

"Oh, hush. Now, the Quaffle is the big red ball, and the Chasers try to get the Quaffle through the other side's goal..."

~

Later that night, Carlos walked down to the Quidditch pitch with his borrowed broom. He was pretty nervous, since the captain of the Gryfindor team was Michael Sandaro, and Carlos was very afraid of him, although Michael had never done anything to hurt him. 

As he got closer, he began to make out the shapes of a few people flying around, very high off the ground. He hid his nerves and walked until they were directly above him. 

He didn't want to yell up to them, since he doubted they'd be able to hear, anyways. He began to get the very dangerous idea that he could just... fly up to them. He did have a broomstick. 

Tentatively, he straddled the broomstick, and then realized he didn't know what to do next. Was there a spell you had to do to lift off? Carlos had no idea, and tried to remember if Dana had covered that. 

Feeling quite stupid, Carlos experimentally jumped off the ground. Much to his surprise, he got more air than expected; but the handle of his broom was pointed down, and he quickly zoomed back into the dirt. 

Hoping no one had noticed him eat it, Carlos tried again, making sure his broom was pointed up this time. He shot straight up, panicked, and sharply corrected himself. He leveled out so dramatically he was almost thrown, but he held on. 

Trying not to look down, Carlos got used to steering. At first, he was prone to turn too sharply, but after a few minutes, he found he was able to glide around pretty gracefully. And looking down was getting less terrifying by the minute. 

Feeling confident, Carlos flew up to the people above. 

"Carlos?" Michael Sandaro asked, looking confused. "You're here for tryouts, right? I thought you didn't even know how to ride a broom."

"I winged it," Carlos replied. 

A couple girls flew close together and began whispering, not very subtly. 

"Oh, well, um... wanna throw the Quaffle around?" Sandaro asked.

"Sure," said Carlos, proud to remember what, exactly, the Quaffle was. 

~

The next morning, Dana approached Carlos at breakfast again. 

"Congrats!" she said. "Sandaro told me he was very surprised by your talent. Said you were a complete natural, and that you're going to be a Chaser!"

"Chasers score goals, right?" Carlos asked. Privately, he was happy. He hadn't considered himself a sports guy until he'd learned how to  _fly,_ and now, he was pretty proud of himself, for finally being decent at a magical thing. 

"Yeah," Dana said. She reached across the table to pat him on the shoulder. "I'm proud of you, kid. Now, practice is tonight, and also every weeknight besides Wednesday, until the first match. Have fun. Make friends." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Going to post another really soon, since this chapter was so short. I mean it this time! Sorry for the long gap last time! 
> 
> My tumblr is [fruitfish](http://fruitfish.tumblr.com) if you want to reach me!

**Author's Note:**

> I've got the next few chapters written, and I'll post them in a couple weeks when I get back from my trip. In the meantime, you can find me on tumblr at [svcre](http://svcre.tumblr.com). And hey, if you read this, thanks so much and I hope you like it!


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